


can i get a name for that?

by DragonEyez



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Annoyances to Friends to Lovers, Other, Slow Burn, i have a brand and the brand is coffee aus and i say that because this is my fourth one, shout out to lu for encouraging me to write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 11:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonEyez/pseuds/DragonEyez
Summary: all echo wants to do is make drinks and go home. unfortunately, a new regular seems hellbent on preventing that





	can i get a name for that?

**Author's Note:**

> this was uhhhhhh 23 pages. Whoops.

It was only Tuesday night and Echo was already ready to tell Gig they’d rather be a co-star in one of his vlogs than acknowledge the fact that they did in fact have to work for the rest of the week. The only consolation they had to offer themself was that Consolation closed in twenty minutes and they’d already cleaned everything they possibly could so that they could just count the till and then leave. And then sleep until Even inevitably came by to beat their door down and make sure they weren’t dead. But before they could do that, they had to stick it out til close. At least it was empty.

With a sigh, they pulled out their needlework from a cubby hole under the counter. They’d been working on a small patch for Even to put on his bomber jacket. His birthday was soon, so they wanted to get it done as soon as they could. Echo got another solid ten minutes of work done on the intricate flower they were doing their best to make look like it was metal. Originally, they’d thought that they could just do it in silver thread and call it a day, but it hadn’t looked right in the rough sketches they’d done, so it was back to the drawing board. Methodically, they counted stitches, tongue stuck out of their mouth just a little bit as they concentrated. 

The door opened with a loud _ding_ and Echo jumped at the sudden intrusion, stabbing themself in the finger.

“Shit!”

They shoved the project back in its spot as they checked their finger to see if they were bleeding. And because nothing in their life could be easy, of course they were. “Just a second.” They said, barely remembering to use their “Excellent Customer Service™” voice. 

“Yeah yeah sure take your time.”

How gracious, Echo thought, rooting around in a drawer for a band-aid. They were sure there was one in there somewhere, they just had to look. After several more moments of searching, they found a few crumpled under a school box full of rubber bands and cup sleeves. They scrubbed their hands and wrapped their finger up before turning around to face whoever the hell had actually decided that rolling in here when it was now (they checked the clock) four minutes before closing.

“Can I help you?”

The Asshole had the audacity to look at _them_ as if _they_ were the problem here. “Yeah so I’m gonna need an extra large cup for this: five pumps of chai, two white mocha and 6 shots, long. Extra ice.”

Three minutes to close. The fact that Echo did _not_ leap over the counter and start wailing on him could solely be attributed to the fact that they spent their entire life learning self-discipline and control at the Reverie School. And the fact that they needed to pay rent next week and they couldn’t do that if they were fired for assault. That was mostly it. So they breathed deeply through their nose and plastered a smile on their face and rang up the order. “Sure thing. Can I get a name for that order?”

“Yeah it’s Grand Magnificent.”

_Of course it was. Of-fucking-course it was._

“That’ll be ready for you in just a sec. $7.34.”

“That price is outrageous! I never pay that much for this drink, and I would know, I get it just about every time I’m here.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s just how it rings up.”

“Well what are you charging me for?”

“The extra shots and syrup.”

“I never get charged for all that!”

Echo’s gritted their teeth and forced out, “I’m sorry, Mr. Magnificent. It’s company policy. Whoever’s rung you up before might not know that, but it’s the truth.” Technically. Technically, Consolation Coffee required their employees to charge for _everything_ that went into a drink, but most people (Echo included) forwent that because it was bullshit. But they had no problem charging this douchebag who had now kept them five minutes past close.

Grand Magnificent huffed and pulled out his wallet. “Fine. And it’s not a surname.”

“Fantastic, sir, would you like your receipt?”

“Yeah sure.”

“I’ll let you know when that’s ready then.”

On the cup, they spelled out “Grant Magnyphyscent.” When they passed it to him, he made a Face™, but chose not to say anything, which was the first good decision he’d made since walking in.

“This doesn’t look right…”

It took every ounce of control Echo had no to scream right then and there. “I made it to your exact order. If you don’t like it, I’m incredibly sorry and you can feel free to come back tomorrow morning for a refund.”

“Can’t you just-“

“Look,” they snapped. “If you want your stupidly complicated drink remade, come back when we’re _open_. I am so sorry if it’s not exactly right.” The sarcasm was dripping from their words, and while a part of Echo knew this was a great way to get written up if Grand Magnificent decided to make a complaint, but they’d been there since 4:30AM because Iota had gotten the flu and called them to cash in the favor they owed her and now it was 11:15PM and they were _done_. Echo moved to shut down the espresso machine and clean it so they were out of his line of sight. _Just this, then the till, and then home_.

“Right, yes. Have a good night then, I suppose.”

“Yeah you too.”

The bell chimed once more, signaling the fact that the new thorn in their side was finally gone and Echo leapt over the counter to lock the door before anyone else could even dare to try it again. They cashed out in record time and shook out the tip jar to see if there was enough loose change to maybe convert into cash as well. There was, there always was, but what surprised Echo was that there was an extra $30 in the jar that definitely hadn’t been there there earlier.

Bastard.

\---

“Even,” Echo whined. “He was awful. Sympathise with me.”

“I will not. You just want me to commiserate with you and I’m not going to feed into your irritation. Drink your tea.”

“Ugh.”

Even had, true to form, woken Echo from their coma around hour ten, bringing pizza and tea. It was an odd combination, but practically tradition at this point. They did as they were told, then pointed a crust at him. “Stop being a real adult for like two seconds and level with me for a minute old man.”

“You know I have other friends who are much nicer that I could spend time with.”

“Yeah but you like me so you’ll let me keep complaining.”

“Not about the Coffee Guy I won’t. It’s your day off, stop talking about work.”

“See? Real adult.”

Even threw his hands up in playful exasperation. “Since when does having a slight amount of emotional maturity equate to being a real adult? You’re a real adult!”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” They passed even the piece of crust they’d been holding him up with. “How’s Cascabel?”

“Fantastic. It’s so funny, he’s trying to act like he doesn’t know my birthday’s coming but he’s not letting me into the garage and being a massive dork about it. I love him so much.”

“Ha. That’s gay.”

“I know isn’t it? We’ve been talking about kids, you know?”

Echo raised an eyebrow. “Wow. That’s a big deal.”

“I _know_.”

“For what it’s worth, you’d make a good dad. Both of you.”

Even patted one of their hands with a warm smile. “Thanks bud.”

“I’ve gotta be the godparent of at least one of them.”

“I think you might have to fight Gig for that.”

“I’ll win.”

Even threw his head back into a loud laugh at that and Echo joined in soon after. When they managed to pull themselves together, they moved onto other subjects, all thoughts of Echo’s job completely forgotten.

—

They thought they heard the bell over the door chime, but they were working on three drinks and they couldn’t see over the combined monsters of the espresso machine and the massive wall of cups set up next to it. Not to mention the milk steamer was too loud to even hold a conversation over it, let alone clearly hear things like that. It was nice to see who had ordered the three lattes though. Vanaya, a college aged girl who was a regular, and two of who Echo assumed were her newest wayward teen “adoptees.” Echo didn’t think they’d ever seen the same kids in with her twice, which was impressive since she usually came in at least once a week. She was good people though, always helped out whoever she thought needed it. They knew from various conversations with her that she was planning something big for the kids and they hoped she could do it sooner rather than later. Having a “Vanya” in their life when they were these kids’ age would have been something else. With a smile and a nod (and a few hidden free pastries), passed on to the kids, Echo slid back in front of the register. And then internally groaned.

“Hi there,” They managed, Customer Service Smile™ forced to their face. “What can I get for you?”

“Are you sure you can take my order now or are you going to ignore me some more?” Grand Magnificent, still dressed like a colorblind peacock’s approximation of a lumberjack, stood before them looking incredibly put out.

“I’m sorry.”

“You _should_ be. I’ve been standing here for at _least_ five minutes!”

Oh boo hoo. “I’m sorry about that. You should have said something.”

“I did. Several times.”

Mentally, Echo began to run calculations on how likely it was that Mr. Moon fired them for getting in a fist fight with a customer. They didn’t like the odds. “Well I’m sorry about that. I have a hard time hearing over the milk steamer, and I can’t see over all the equipment.”

“Hmmph. You should see about changing that. It’s a bad business plan.”

I make minimum wage at the world’s worst coffee shop, why would you think I would be able to do anything about any of this?. “I’ll find out about that. Anyways, your drink order?”

“Same as last time.”

They sighed. “Same as last time coming up.”

They wished they could say they didn’t remember the overly complicated order, but it was forever ingrained in their brain as one of the worst things they had ever been asked to make. But they weren’t as worried about making it this time as they had been the last, given the fact that the shop wasn’t anywhere near closing time this time around. Funny, how a little detail like that made them feel way more agreeable. 

“Here’s your coffee, Cool Fantastic.”

“That’s not my name.” The note of irritation sure didn’t not put a small grin on Echo’s face. 

“Un _for_ tunate.” Echo drawled. “Have a nice day.”

Grand Magnificent mumbled something and wandered off to a table in the corner where it looked like he was preparing for a siege. Art supplies, a laptop, a water bottle, a tablet, snacks. Technically speaking, Echo was pretty sure they were supposed to “discourage” outside food and drink, but they really didn’t care as long as he wasn’t causing any trouble.

“What’s the Wi-fi password?!”

“sorrycafe, lowercase. Don’t yell across the room. You’re disturbing the other customers.” Ignoring the fact that the only other person still in the shop was Kent Brighton, who had his headphones in (and was probably too engrossed in writing his disgustingly sappy pining poems about Gig again to even notice). It was the principle of the matter. The man flashed him a thumbs up and turned to whatever it was he was working on.

Not many people came in over the next few hours, which Echo was completely fine with. Even though they hated being bored, a slow day was preferable to a rush when they were working alone. So they contented themself to cleaning counters and remaking teas and when they got bored with that, they made samples. In theory, they were always supposed to do this when they had downtime, but they only ever really did it when they wanted a drink and didn’t want to deal with the possibility of getting yelled at for “stealing.” So they made some blended horror of heavy cream, vanilla, and ice. It was basically drinkable ice cream, which they improved upon with covering the concoction in whipped cream. They put the extra in some sample cups and set them on the counter. “Hey Big Awesome, you want one of these?”

Apparently distracting him was the wrong thing to have done. The men jerked in surprise, smacking himself in the face, just barely missing his eye with tablet pen. Echo had to cover their mouth to avoid barking out a laugh at the comical scene. They didn’t quite manage to stop the first noise though, and once he’d stopped flailing, Grand shot them a very put out look.

“First of all, that is _not_ my name. Second, what did you want that is so important you interrupted my work?”

Echo rolled their eyes. Of course. How dare they have interrupted the dickhead’s Very Important Work? “My apologies. I was asking if you wanted a free sample, but I’ll take it back if I’m _imposing_.”

Immediately, the man scrambled to rearrange his expression. “Oh no I’ll...have one. I suppose it is time for a break anyways.” He wandered up to the counter and eyed the cups with suspicion. “What is it?”

“Think like if a vanilla Frosty was actually good.”

That seemed to get him, because he picked one up pretty quickly to try it. “Oh, that is good.”

“I know right.”

“Well. Uh. Thanks.”

Echo raised an eyebrow. “No problem.”

“I’m goin to get back to work now.”

“Feel free.”

“Right.”

He lingered a moment longer, hands in his pockets. Echo wondered if he was waiting for something else, nut the moment passed and he returned to his table and got back to doing whatever it was he was doing. Drawing, they guessed. Every so often, they glanced over to watch him. He was really into whatever it was he was working on. His brow furrowed or he made a ridiculous face. More than once, Echo saw him make a massive scribble across the entire screen while making angry noises of frustration, setting it down on the table for a minute before picking it back up. It was a bit like when Gig came over to hang out but also get some editing done. Echo supposed that when you got down to it, that creative process would always be the same. They could understand that to some extent. They often did the same thing when they were practicing old forms or working on a new sword routine. 

The night dragged on and Grand Magnificent showed no sign of leaving anytime soon. He did order another drink at some point, but Echo thought that was more out of a need to stay awake than to justify his prolonged presence, but other than that he just sat at the table and worked. As it drew nearer to close, Echo began to shoot him pointed looks, like they could make him leave with pure will power, but he didn’t get the hint. So they resigned themself to cleaning, first the equipment and counters, then the floor and tables. When it got to the point to where Echo literally had nothing else to do besides _leave_ , they walked over to him and tapped on the table a few times to get his attention. He was startled, but less so than the first time. 

“What?”

“Time to home.”

“No it can’t be it’s only…” He trailed off as he checked his watch, then made a face. “Oh. Well. Yes. Guess I’ll go then.”

“You do that.”

His stomach growled loudly, and the two of them froze, staring each other down. A flush began to creep up the back of Grand’s neck. “I guess I have have forgotten to eat some real food?”

Echo hesitated before going back behind the counter and pulling a few of the pastries they were going to have to toss anyway and sliding them into a back to set on the table before Grand, purposefully not looking him in the eye. “I’m going to have to toss these anyway, so if you want ‘em, you can have ‘em.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.” As he scrambled to pack up, Echo went back to the counter to dump out the tip jar. They noticed there was way more money in there than would’ve been usual for a day as slow as this. 

They looked at Grand again, this time with a look that could be considered “nicer” than anything they’d fixed him with before. Thoughtful, maybe. Hmmm.

It still didn’t stop them from basically stepping on his heels as they followed him out the door to lock up.

\---

They didn’t know how it happened, but slowly, Grand’s “commandeer the café until forced to leave” act became routine. More often than not, Echo could expect to see the artist either shortly after they arrived or already well into his...whatevering when they came in to kick morning crew out. More than once, Iota had shot them with teasing grin, like she knew something they didn’t. They didn’t even want to know what it was about, so they only ever playfully flipped her off and shooed her away. 

It wasn’t _nice_ , per say, to have Grand “The Very Ground I Walk On Should Be Considered Holy” Magnificent around almost 24/7, but they’d established a bit of a routine, and there was always comfort to be found in that. Which is why, when Grand came up to order his third drink in 2 hours, Echo had to ask questions.

“Whoa there. Are you forming an addiction? Do I need to cut you off?”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Echo.” He snapped. 

“Don’t take that tone with me. I’m just asking because you normally ever get like two in a day. But fine, coming up.”

“Wait-” Grand ran a hand down his face. “That was uncalled for, I’ll admit.”

“Gee, you think?”

“It’s just, I am under a considerable amount of pressure at the moment. The _Marquis_ ,” He said the word with a degree of venom that made Echo blink in surprise. “Is hounding me to finish a piece he only just recently commissioned, and on top of that, my gallery submissions need to be put in soon, and there’s just not enough hours in the day.”

“Yeah, you’re looking a bit dead on your feet.” Now that he mentioned it, Echo could started to see the ragged edges. His hair was mussed in more than the “artful” way it usually was, the bags under his eyes were deep, his clothes were rumpled, and his sleeves were pulled back just enough to see- were those _tattoos?_ “So who’s this Marquis guy and why’s he being a pain in the ass?”

“The Marquis of Fashion and Transportation. He’s my patron, and the contract we have allows him to make...requests.” God that was an even worse name than “Grand Magnificent.” Maybe it was a pretentious artist thing. Echo had no idea. 

“So your sugar daddy-”

“He is _not_ my ‘sugar daddy.’ Patrons have been a staple of the art world for centuries.”

“So. Your _art_ sugar daddy-”

“Argh!”

Echo couldn’t help it. They started laughing at the comically enraged expression on Grand’s face. Maybe they hadn’t been getting enough sleep recently either, maybe it wasn’t really that funny, but it sent them over the edge enough that it took a few minutes to recover. Eventually Grand cracked a smile as well and joined in. When they both settled down, Echo did move to start making The Abombination. 

“Thanks, Echo.”

“For the drink? No problem. It’s kind of literally my job.”

“No,” Grand waved a hand at them. “Well. Yes. But also for the joke. I haven’t had cause to really laugh like that in a while.”

“Well, maybe you should find some. You’ve got a nice laugh.”

Grand turned fire engine red and Echo realized what they’d said. “I just meant that it’s nice when you’re not taking yourself so seriously!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Echo sighed and handed the cup to Grand. “Just go, make your scribbles, or whatever it is you do over there. And _eat_ something.”

“I’ll have you know I am a renowned artist!” Grand sniffed. “I don’t scribble.”

“I’m sure. Go sit down, you’re holding up my non-existent line.”

“Yeah yeah.” 

He left a little earlier that night, but he left his trash all over the table. Okay it was one piece of paper, but Echo still had to clean it up. Except, when they got to the table, they realized it wasn’t trash. It was a drawing of _them_. In surprise, they studied it. It wasn’t elaborate or anything, but it definitely had some care put into it. Them from the shoulders up, drawn with a blue ballpoint. They looked focused in the drawing. Some of their hair was escaping from their bun and hung in their face, and instead of it looking terrible, like they knew it did in reality, it made them look softer somehow. They had to admit it was a pretty good picture. Seeing themself from Grand’s perspective made them feel...well they weren’t sure what to call the feeling, but it was _something_. 

They folded it up and hid it in one of the pockets if their wallet before continuing on. And if, the next time they saw Grand, they charged him a little less for his Abomination, well no one had to know why.

\---

“Echooooo, you’re not liiiiiiistening.”

They rolled their eyes before patting Gig on the head and giving his feet a pointed glare. 

“Sure I am. Video block, time crunch, something something Kent. See? Listening. Now take your shoes off in my house already. I met your moms so I know you weren’t raised by wolves.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe they’re just fake moms I hired to trick you into thinking that.” But he was grinning good-naturedly and finally slipped off his ratty sneakers before he chucked them in the direction of the front door. “Happy?”

“Yes. Now what exactly do you want from _me_? You know I never get on the Internet, so I don’t really know how I can help you.”

“I don’t know! But Even’s busy and so’s Kent and Sirge didn’t know how to help and Lily-”

“Okay I get it.” Gig had a _lot_ of friends. “Walk me through the problem one more time.”

Sitting up from where he’d been laying his head on Echo’s lap, he prepared himself to launch into another explanation. 

“Okay so I was supposed to take Kent home with me and we were going to do a whole thing with the fame and some practical DIY and fix-its and I was going to teach him how to _really_ ride a horse-”

“Breathe.” They reminded him, something that was habit now after years of friendship. While Gig took a deep breath, Echo said, “So what’s the point? No rabbit trails.”

He rolled his eyes before continuing. “ _But_ something came up with his aunt, so he can’t leave town this week, and now my entire video schedule is off!”

“Don’t you normally have back up plans in case of stuff like this happening?”

“Yeah but they’re all _planned_ now. And also Kent is supposed to be in them. And I really wanted Duck to meet Kent.”

Privately, Echo wondered if Gig was _truly_ oblivious to the fact that everyone knew he was dating Kent except for him and Kent or if he was being willingly obtuse at this point. They had a betting pool running with Even (and Cascabel to an extent) about it.

“So you’ve got a bad case of tunnel vision.”

“I guess.”

“Does it have to be informational?”

Gig frowned. “Well I promised that this series would be all helpful videos.”

“Gig. Buddy. It’s a bunch of people on the Internet. I think you’ll be fine if you deviate a little.”

“Well yeah of course _you_ do! You never use it. The Internet is a mean place sometimes man. Those kids of yours have been harassing me.”

“Mhmm. But _anyways_ , why don’t you just say that some unexpected stuff came up that put you off schedule and just go off and do something with a friend. You could do the daily...like...thing? The thing you do when you film during lunches sometimes y’know?”

“Oh a “Day in the Life” video? Yeah maybe I could do that. I still feel a little bad disappointing people, though.”

Echo shrugged. “Reschedule it. I’m 79% sure everyone will live.”

“Uggggghhhhhhhhhhh.”

“It’s true!” They poked him in the cheek. “Don’t make that face at me.”

“Meeeeehhhhhhh.”

“GiIiIiIiIig.”

“Ugh fine. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Now, do you want to show me that video game you were talking about or not?”

“Pfff only if you’re ready for me to kick your ass.”

“Well that’s definitely not going to happen but sure.”

Gig scrambled off of the couch to go set up the system he’d brought over to Echo’s apartment, all worries over his videos temporarily banished at the new distraction of trying to beat Echo at whatever game he’d brought over this time. 

\---

“Sooo…”

“There’s a line today Grand.” They didn’t mean to be so curt, but there really was like six people behind him, so Echo did _not_ have the time at the moment.

“Yeah but-”

“$4.79. We can talk when I’m not busy.”

Grand huffed but moved on, and Echo gave a silent thanks that he decided not to be a jackass for once. Unfortunately, the other customers had not. Three super-complicated drinks and two of them had to be remade because they got distracted and use the wrong milk or syrups. Two orders that weren’t terrible but they all contained way too many drinks to be reasonable and that sure was something. On the last one, everything was fine until they misjudged where they were grabbing and, instead of the grip on the milk steamer, they hit metal. Incredibly hot, scalding metal. With a shout, they stopped everything and stuck their hand in the sanitizer, which was the closet source of cold water their panicked brain could remember.

“Hey, uh, are you okay?” The girl whos drink they had been making asked, sounding completely unconcerned.

“Yep! Just a little burn. I’ll have your drink ready for you in just a sec.” They forced a lot of cheeriness into their voice that they definitely weren’t feeling. They had the good sense to pull their hand out of the sani and rinse it off. Examining the damage, it wasn’t terrible, but their thumb and pointer were definitely going to blister. The cabinet didn’t have anything to deal with burns, so they swallowed a curse and taped up their fingers with the medical tape, calling it a day.

“Can I have my drink now?”

Grand’s voice cut in, surprising Echo. “Hey, back off, they’ll get to you in a minute. Can’t you see they’re hurt? Geez.”

The girl rolled her eyes, but thankfully stopped needling Echo. They mouthed a “thank you” at Grand before examining their handywork. It wouldn’t last long, and their hand was throbbing, but it would last until they could go home and take care of it for real. Mentally they started cursing themself out for their lack of attention that had caused this in the first place, and then popped a lid on the girls drink and passed it out to her, ignoring her snide “thanks.” Since there were no more people in line for the moment, they turned to Grand, who was looking at them with mild horror.

“So, what did you want?”

“Are you _okay_?”

They waved their uninjured hand at him. “Yeah it’s whatever. Just hurt like a mothefucker.”

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_. Now tell me what you wanted.”

“Oh. Yes. What I wanted to say. That is-”

“Grand.” Echo’s voice held a warning tone. They were not in the mood for...whatever it was he was doing.

“Right. I’m inviting you to my gallery showing.”

“Oh.” They were surprised. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’ve got the flyer for it somewhere,” he rummaged through his pockets until he found a neatly folded piece of paper and handed it to them.”

“Oh. Why?”

A flush crawled over Grand’s face. “Well I thought you were fairly important to my creative process, so it’s only fair for you to be a part of the finished product.”

“I just made coffee.”

“And on occasion, you...helped.”

“Oh?”

“A friend of mine recently told me I was, a bit of an ass to you. It wasn’t on purpose, I just get focused and everything else tends to move to the periphery.”

They cracked a slight smile. “Yeah, you were a Lot of an ass. But you grew on me. Like mold.” The look of disgust on his face was pretty funny. 

“Yeah well. You helped. You let me take up space here and on occasion fed me and- Well never mind. You were a part of the process, and I want you to come.”

Echo unfolded the flyer to examine it, scanning the information. They made a face at the words “Black Tie,” and then found the date.

“Grand this is a _week_ from now!”

He frowned in confusion. “Yeah?”

“This is so last minute! I can’t just take a night off a week from now.”

“Ah. Are you sure you can’t just call out or something?”

They pinched the bridge of their nose, then hissed in pain as they realized it had been with their injured hand. “No I can’t just- I have to pay rent and buy groceries and shit I can’t just flake on my job.”

“Surely someone-”

“Not all of us make our living being paid ‘patrons.’ Some of us….” They trailed off, frustrated. “Everything is not about you and what you want Grand Magnificent.”

“I never said that it was!”

“Yeah but you act like it.”

“Well fine then. If you don’t want to don’t come.”

“I won’t!”

They faced off against each other for a few minutes, neither willing to look away and lose. In their uninjured hand, Echo felt themself crushing the flyer. Eventually, Grand let out a noise of irritation and threw his hands up in the air. “Well I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to this the right way. I have other things to be doing, so I’ll leave.”

“Feel free. Hope you enjoy your _exhibit_.”

“I _will_.”

They watched him pack up his table and try to storm out, but it was really hard to take anything seriously when he strode out of the coffee shop in the prissiest way possible. Echo remained thoroughly unimpressed. 

\---

Echo stretched themself out across Even’s couch, laying their head in Gig’s lab and slingling their legs over Even’s. “All I’m saying it was super rude of him to just _assume_ I’d be free to just do whatever he wanted.”

“I mean yeah but all he has like, no social graces when he’s not somewhere where he has to schmooze.” Gig said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Shocker.” Then Gig’s comment registered in their brain. “Wait, how do you know Grand?”

“We’ve been to a few of the same award nights, local artists events, stuff like that. He’s not a _bad guy_ , he’s just super bad at people-ing I guess. Like really bad. But he’s pretty fun to hang out with too and he really likes to tinker and I like to tinker so we’ve got that in common and stuff like that y’know? He’s also pretty famous?”

“I’ve been betrayed by my closest friend.”

Even poked them in the shin. “Hey! I thought _I_ was your closest friend.” He said with heavily faked offense. 

“I’ve been betrayed by my second-closest friend.”

Gig shrugged. “That’s fine. Kent’s my best friend anyway. Well aside from Duck you know because Duck _gets_ me he’s such a smart horse.”

“We are all love Duck.” Even intoned. 

“What?” Echo said at the same time Gig groaned and said, “I wish Cascabel had never taught you memes.”

“Now I know what the hip young folk are saying.”

“I have _no_ clue what you’re talking about.”

“He said _hip_ , Echo.” 

“I’m hip.”

“The only reason you have a cell phone is because you went MIA for a week when you had the flu and Even thought you were dead. You might be the only person I know our age who willingly avoids the Internet at all costs.”

“If there’s anything worth seeing on it I trust you to keep me informed.” They said dryly.

“Well duh. Also you could’ve totally looked Grand up at anytime.”

“Why would I have done that?”

Gig and Even exchanged a Look™ over their head that Echo pretended not to see. 

“But like, I think you should go? I mean I’m going and so like you’ll know at least one person? Wait no you’ll know two because Kent’s coming. And there’ll be free booze and probably the tiny snacks and we can laugh at the art?”

“I don’t even have anything to _wear_ to a black tie event Gig.” They couldn’t believe they were actually being swayed into agreeing to go after they had decided that they Very Much Did Not Want To. “And not to mention I still work that night.”

Even scoffed. “We both know Iota owes you like 3 favors, cash one in and have her cover your shift.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaannnnd,” Gig tugged lightly at the two tiny braids he’d woven into their hair earlier in the night in excitement. “I know know know that Kent has something you could borrow.”

How do I phrase this delicately? “Kent and I have very different tastes in clothes, Gig.”

“No no no. Not Kent’s clothes specifically. But the Brightons are _all_ about that fancy life. They for sure have something you could wear.”

Echo covered their face with the hands and groaned. “I hate you guys.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“So does that mean you’ll go?” Even asked.

“Yes, I’ll fucking go. But under extreme duress. I want it known that I am under _duress_.”

“Noted.”

\---

The line of people streaming into the gallery was ridiculous. Echo was beginning to believe Gig’s claim that Grand was famous. But also there were two other artists there as well, so maybe not. They were definitely sure that they were glad they brought their jacket as the minutes wore on. It was a chilly night, and the fact that the dress they’d borrowed left their arms and entire back exposed wasn’t helping the situation at all. Gig and Kent were chattering away animatedly about...pirates maybe? They’d tuned out of the conversation and once they tuned back in, they’d completely moved on and Echo had no way of tracking the lost thread. 

The lined moved forward soon enough though, and fifteen minutes later they had a realization of horror that there was a _bouncer_ checking names off a _list_. 

“Gig!” They hissed under their breath.

“Yeah?”

“There’s a _list_.”

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry, you’re probably on it.”

“I told him I wasn’t coming tonight, though.”

“Echo, my good good friend.” He reached down and laid a hand on Echo’s shoulder. “You are most definitely on the list.”

“Besides, Gig was telling me that you didn’t even want to come to this event.” Kent added. “So if the case is that your name isn’t on the list, you basically have nothing to worry about, right chum?”

“Yeah I guess that’s true.” But it felt like it would be such a _waste_ at this point. They didn’t _say_ that, because then they would have to admit a level of commitment that they absolutely refused to let their friends know existed. In the back of their mind, they could hear Ligato muttering about sunk-cost fallacies. They ignored that and simply squared their shoulders and ready themself for the suddenly-very real possibility of being turned away in front of a lot of very snobby people. But it never happened. Gig and Kent got waved through no problem, and when they said “Echo Reverie,” they got a surprised look from the bouncer, but still was allowed in. 

“I told you so.” Gig said, looking proud of himself. Echo only rolled their eyes, not dignifying the taunt with a response. “C’mon, the coat check’s over here.” And before they even realized it, Gig had hooked an arm through their own and dragged them in the direction of said coat check, where Kent was waiting, already talking to somebody who looked _exactly_ how Echo would imagine how people who went to art exhibitions would look. A monocle wouldn’t be out of place. 

“Ah, yes! And here is my dear friend Gig Kephart!” He said drew Gig into the conversation, leaving Echo to awkwardly pass their jacket to the very bored-looking woman, who simply gave them a ticket and motioned for them to move. They looked at the ticket, and then to their lack of pockets, and then sighed and walked over to Gig. Wordlessly, they shoved the ticket into his left pocket, ignoring the confused (and slightly outraged) look of Rich Asshole #32, who paused mid-sentence. Gig, on the other hand, was used to it or things like that happening so he just carried on with the conversation, ignoring the pause. 

With that taken care of, Echo wandered away, looking for the promised “free booze and tiny snacks.” While they did that, they looked at the art hanging on the walls and the sculptures littering the room, making it an obstacle course. The paintings were nice, they guessed. Most of them were just overlapping shapes, no portraits or landscapes to be seen though. The sculptures, on the other hand, were something else. Echo didn’t know _what_ they felt when they looked at them. They were impossibly complex, sharp curves and soft angles and pieces sticking out in ways that should make them look messy but instead just _worked_. There was one in particular that looked like an approximation of a person if a person was made of...glass? Mirrors? Reflective metal? Echo couldn’t figure out what the material was, and they stood there for a good minute or so studying it. 

“Oh! You came! Hi!” They whipped their head around to see Grand Magnificent standing slightly behind them in the most godawful suit Echo had ever seen in their _life_. If they’d thought his everyday wear was bad, this was a trainwreck. They couldn’t help themself, they started laughing and then they couldn’t stop when they caught sight of his confused look. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Your-” They broke off again. “Who let you out of the house dressed like _that_?” They doubled over, barely avoiding spilling their champagne in the process.

“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

That set them off again, and it took far too long for them to catch enough breath to compose themself. As they wiped away tears they said, “You look like a circus train went art deco and then crashed onto your body.”

“It’s _artisitic_.”

“It’s something alright.”

He sniffed. “It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate fashion.”

A smile played at their lips again and they took a drink. “Oh is that what we’re calling it these days?”

“ _Yes_.” He took a look at Echo and his expression shifted slightly. “Well, you look nice, anyway.”

The compliment was unexpected. “Oh. Thank you. I borrowed it from one of Kent’s...family members I think? I didn’t have anything that really screamed ‘Black Tie.’ If the theme was like, working out, or I don’t know, sword fight or whatever, that I could do.”

“Sword fight?”

“Yeah I do swordplay sometimes. My whole family does, actually, it’s a whole thing.”

They watched Grand swallow hard, and his eyes shot to look at their arms and then back at their face. “That’s... that’s cool. Anyways, I’m glad you decided to come after all. I know that my request was...demanding. And you didn’t have to come. But I’m really glad you did.”

“Yeah, well Gig can be persuasive when he wants to be. Which is most of the time, even though I don’t think he knows it.”

Grand chuckled at that. “Yeah, believe me, I know. But anyway, what to you think of my statues?”

“These are _your_ statues?”

“Yeah? What did you think I did?”

“I don’t know, paintings or digital art or something! You always had the, the stuff! And you left me that drawing that one time and-”

“Wait what drawing?”

“The drawing you did of me?”

Grand _flushed_ , looking absolutely mortified. “Oh nooooooo.” He covered his face with a hand. “I didn’t mean to leave that one the table. You weren’t supposed to see that. You probably think I’m a creep now.”

“I think you’re a lot of things, but ‘creep’ isn’t one of them.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I, uh, I thought it was nice.” They admitted, not looking at Grand.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Changing the subject quickly, they said, “Okay so which one of them’s your favorite?”

Grand’s hand dropped from his face and he offered an elbow to Echo, who rolled their eyes but linked arms with him. And then they realized, Grand was secretly buff. The could feel the bulge of muscles through his sleeve. That was...interesting. They tucked away the information to the back of their brain. “You ready for the _grand tour_?”

They groaned at the terrible pun, but motioned for him to start walking. Each of the statues had a story, some of them commissioned pieces that the owners allowed to be used for the exhibit, some things that he worked through in a fevered daze because inspiration had struck him, some that were inspired by friends, or rivals, or really whatever. Echo found themself genuinely enjoying themself. Every one of the stories showed them a bit more of Grand, the person, instead of just Grand, that sometimes asshole from the coffee shop or Grand Magnificent, pretentious artist. It was nice.

“So before I show you my favorite,” Grand said, free hand scratching the back of his head. “I need to apologize?”

“For?”

“Gig and I wear talking a whole back, and he told me in no uncertain terms that I had been, uhhhh, to put it nicely, a dick? Especially to you? And I’m really sorry about that.  
I have this terrible habit of tunnel visioning on my work and that means I...don’t really pay attention to how I act? Or treat people? Anyways, I know it’s a bad excuse, but I-” He broke off with a frustrated noise. “That’s why I left the big tips, too. And I wanted to really make up to you tonight. So, yeah. Come here.”

He nearly dragged them to a corner where another statue was standing. This one was steel, tinted blue in some places, iridescent in others. It was _sharp_ , in a way that reminded them of their sword. It gleamed in odd places, was burnished in others. It gave it the illusion that it twisted in odd directions. After some staring, they realized it was a flower. 

“What’s-”

“This is, um, this is you? I mean like if I put you into words and then made the words feelings?”

A sudden bout of fondness punched them in the chest. “It’s- Grand it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you. I don’t-”

“You don’t have-”

At a loss for words, Echo raised onto the tips of the feet and kissed Grand on the cheek. Grand made a noise of surprise and then just...stopped. Echo was a little worried they’d broken him for a few moments. 

“Look. I will admit, we got off on the wrong foot, Grand. But I think maybe I’d like to give first impressions another shot if you do?”

“Uh. Yeah. Yes. Yes! I would like to do that also. Oh God I-”

Echo laughed and just patted him softly on the arm. “It’s okay I think I got the gist of it. How about this. I have Tuesday off, wanna go get dinner?”

“Yes. My treat?”

“Perfect. Here, give me your phone real quick.”

Grand had it to them, and they called themself briefly before handing it back. “There, now I have your number.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Cool.” They turned to leave, headed back towards the front of the exhibit, but stopped short, looking over their shoulder at still-flustered man. “Oh, and Grand, one more thing?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t think I’m giving you a discount anytime soon.”

Grand laughed at that, and they traded their empty glass for a full one. Now they just had to find Gig. They definitely wanted their jacket back now. 

(A week later, Grand poured them both two cups of coffee, and Echo almost lost their shit as they realized that Grand drank his black.”

**Author's Note:**

> the dress echo was wearing is [https://goo.gl/images/XVb59w](this%20but%20smooth)
> 
> as always, comments and constructive criticism is always welcome and i can be found at [theunacceptablepylades](https://theunacceptablepylades.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, or [@QueerlyDeparted](https://twitter.com/QueerlyDeparted) on twitter. and if you like what i write, consider getting me a [coffee](https://ko-fi.com/queerlydeparted)


End file.
